


Interwoven

by Eggspelliarmus



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Dark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Obsession, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, Trauma, first fic featuring you and it is full of angst, fluff (only ocassionally), gramander only appears in the latter part of the fic, i am sorry credence, mainly features crewt, only slight gramander tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9064096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eggspelliarmus/pseuds/Eggspelliarmus
Summary: Living until entering adulthood, without being killed by the dark force of the obscurus parasitising inside him, Credence Barebone might be the strongest obscurus ever documented in the history of the wizarding world. He was a dark force that power-thirst people yearned for, but not even Gellert Grindelwald could get hold of him.Senior Auror Apophis Slotwinski was there at the City Hall train station, when the obscurus manifested. He desired the New Salem boy's power ever since that incident, but had no idea how to get hold of it. Until he saw how close Newon Scamander and Credence Barebones grew to be. He realised, only through taking hostage of the magizoologist, the only person the obscurial boy seemed to care, could he manipulate this dark and powerful force.Besides, the man in blue was not bad-looking either. Maybe he could help deal with the senior auror's sexual frustration as well.





	1. the beginning of it all

Aurors filled up the stations, their wands held up in a menacing manner. Lights of spells shot from the aurors' wands, aiming at the black mass of fluid-like mist - the obscurus - as the man in blue coat begged them to stop.  
They didn’t.

  
Spells went flying, hitting the obscurus with precision and brutality, covering the black mass in a ball of white light. The obscurus let out an undignified shriek, before succumbing to the aurors’ power. The black mist was gone, only small fragments of black was left suspending in the cold air, like feathers of a crow. All was silent. The crowd looked at where the obscurus was at just now with an unreadable expression, whether it was awe or a sense of accomplishment, or lament, nobody could know for sure.

  
“You fools. Do you realise what you have done?” through gritted teeth, Graves asked, with his wand raised, aiming at the herd of MACUSA aurors.

  
He fired spells at the aurors, as they attacked him in a systematic and trained manner. Graves smirked, yielding his wand to shield off all the attack, as spells went flying out of his wand simultaneously. Straw spells hit aurors standing at the corner, sending them flying backwards.

  
The beautiful man in blue coat appeared to be crying, his eyes a dark shade of red - he was in grief - probably blaming himself for too weak to save the obscurus, Senior Auror Apophis Slotwinski noted, after all, the New Salem boy was the strongest obscurus ever witness in the history of the wizarding world. Of course he would be sad for not being able to save the poor boy so he could not be the first person to use the obscurus’ power for his own pleasure. At least that would be what Slotwinski would like to do if he was the one in possession of the Obscurus. Another man fell down, as Graves marched towards them. Slotwinski gripped his wand tightly, launching attacks at the director as he advanced.

  
The man – Newt Scamander – Slotwinski recalled, seemed to recover from his mourning and stood up, as Graves appeared to be winning over the aurors, and only Slotwinski and several other senior aurors were still standing and defending. Picquery was frowning, her wand held high, in a position ready to start a duel with Graves.

  
Scamander released something, and in a flash, it wrapped around Graves, causing the man to trip and land on his knees. His wand flew away from his loosened grip, into the hands of Porpentina Goldstein. Scamander, seeing that it was a great opportunity to subdue Graves, rose his wand and casted “Revelio.”.

  
The director, kneeling on the ground, transformed. The aurors that went down were back on their feet again, and they were murmuring as the man on the ground’s true identity was revealed.

  
“Grindelwald...”

  
And instantly, it clicked. Slotwinski realized how strong the obscrus was, as he witnessed his fellow aurors taking away Grindelwald under Picquery’s instructions. It was a strong power, so strong that not even Gellert Grindelwald, the most powerful dark wizard on Earth, could gain control over.

  
Slotwinski was no Grindelwald fanatic. Rather than following a strong and dark leader's footsteps, he would rather be the leader himself. Let others worship him. That was what he would like to do.

  
But only if he could gain control over the obscurus.

  
He could be king.

  
Slotwinski glanced at the man in blue coat, surprisingly, he was clearly distracted from the scene as he was looking up into the skies.

  
So he followed the man’s eyes and looked up.

  
And he saw a small black smoke leaving the train station, only to disappear behind the clouds.

  
The obscurus was still alive.

  
Sneering, Slotwinski realized that maybe he could, somehow, be able to gain control over the obscurus.

 

 

Slotwinski was tracking down the New Salem boy - Credence Barebone - he thought that was his name, when he saw that beautiful man in blue coat again. He was intentionally bumping into that no-maj and switching their suitcases.

  
From the man, Slotwinski saw pure goodness and kindness inundating his heart, so kind that it made him, a man of darkness, felt nauseous. Scamander was the light, the polar opposite of him. The senior auror wondered whether it would be fun to dampen the light, to drag him into the pit of hell where he dwelled.

  
And he saw someone emerged from the shadows, tracking down the magizoologist, as he was moving away, planning to stop fantasising about the man in blue to carry on his task of looking for the adult obscurus.

  
It was no other than the obscurus he was looking for.

  
His lips curled. It was getting interesting.

 

 

Credence Barebone was tempted to approach the man in blue - Tina's friend - he supposed, but he was too scared to do so. Even the man radiated kindness and showered him with so much love and.care with his gentle coaxing words on the day at the City Hall train station, he was unable to be absolutely sure that he would not turn him in to the authorities once he shows up.

  
That was the reason why he had been trailing the man for days like a creep that the others often call him, without daring to show his face.

  
He was following the man into a dark alley as the man in blue suddenly halted and came to a stop.

  
"Who are you?" not even bothering to turn around, the man asked, his question echoed in the empty alleyway. A startled stray cat jumped down from the rubbish bin and ran away, "You have been.following me for days."

  
Credence's breath hitched in his throat. Of course he would have discovered Credence. Newt might not be getting all Os in his N.E.W.Ts, but he was not dumb. Looking behind his back, he considered the option of running away, but a flash of light the shot out from the wand on the man's outstretched hand blocked his path.

  
The man turned, and there was an evident shock when he saw Credence's face.

  
"Y-You are..." his mouth opened and closed repeatedly for several times, but no sound came out.

  
"I thought you were dead," after moments of awkward silence, the man in blue whispered, "Even though i saw the smoke, leaving the train station, I thought you couldn't have survived the attack, i mean, all the power you have been left with was that tiny fragment of smoke...I thought...I thought you were doomed to die..."

  
His voice trailed off, as he moved forward to reach out for Credence. Credence flinched, out of reflex, being too used to be beaten up by ma...by Mary Lou Barebone.

  
He saw hurt flickered in the man in blue's orbs. For some unknown reasons, guilt bubbled in his chest.

  
"Don't worry. I am not going to hurt you," the beautiful wizard smiled and reassured Credence, "Do you have a shelter? You look like you have been on the streets for days."

  
Only upon his question did Credence realise his stomach was churning with hunger. He had not looked into a mirror for days, but he reckoned his attire must be astonishing, from the man's word and his worrying glance.

  
Credence shook his head, eyes focused on the older man's shiny leather boots refusing to meet his glance. From his past experiences, locking eyes with someone usually resulted in a series of whipping and beating, mostly being whipped by his belt.

  
"Come on, why don't you go home with me? I can bring you food. I am Newton Scamander, by the way. Just call me Newt," holding out his hand, the man said. With hesitant, Credence held onto the corner of Newt's shirt. He wondered why someone would be interested in someone -a freak, they said- like him. Maybe he just wanted to hurt him, like Mr Graves. But Credence didn't bother to care. Maybe the world would be better with him dead.

  
Newt smiled at him, and they disapparated.

 

 

Slotwinski came out from his hiding spot, behind a lamp post, after the pair was gone, his brow furrowed, clearly deep in thought. He can read the New Salem boy's mind and knew that he was, not surprisingly, suicidal. There was nobody that he cared left in this world, and he did not even care about his life. It seemed that, manipulating Credence Barebones was no easy task.

 

 

"There you go, " Newt smiled at Credence softly, and handed an apple pie that Queenie had made the previous day, "Try some of this. This is my favourite dish by far. Queenie is really good at making pastries."

  
Queenie. That was a girl's name, Credence thought, Newt's girlfriend, perhaps? The idea that Newt might have a girlfriend made Credence's stomach churned with discomfort. The apple pie was tasty, but it did not feel alright.

  
Newt, obnoxious to Credence's inner monologue, continued to devour the apple pie in bliss. Credence peeked at the magizoologist, and discovered that he was absolutely endearing when he was blissfully enjoying one of his favourite food.

  
The wizard looked up, and caught Credence staring at him; the latter quickly looked away, accidentally knocking over the cup of hot cocoa, spilling the chocolate-coloured liquid all over Newt's white shirt.

  
Eyes widened in horror, Credence stared at the patch of cocoa, as it spread over the chest region of white shirt on Newt, his hands shaking with fright. Ma was right. He was a nuisance. He should never been born. No matter how kind Newt appeared to be, he would be outright pissed with Credence.

  
The young boy's breath was caught in his throat as the magizoologist pulled out his wand. Credence was sure that Newt was going to hex him. Then, he would ditch him, like what Mr Graves had done.

  
Credence ducked when Newt raised his wand, whispering "Scourgify" as he did. Surprisingly, Credence felt no pain inflicted on him. Bewildered, the young man looked up; just in time to witness the patch of brown disappear from the white shirt.

  
"It's magical, isn't it?" smiling, the man asked, “I can show you how to do magic, if you want to learn. The world of magic is really different from the non-magical world that you live in. Believe me; you will be dazzled by how magical it is.”

  
He promised show him how to do magic, promised to teach him. Credence cringed, nausea bubbled in his stomach, Newt’s kind word reminded him oh so much of what Mr Graves had promised him. Maybe he was just using him, after all. To coax him with such beautiful words, so he could gain control of his power, his obscurus.

  
Maybe the seemingly nice and gentle man in blue was no better than Mr Graves.

  
“What’s wrong, Credence?” inching forward, the magizoologist looked into Credence’s face, his eyes swarming with worry, “Your face is pale as a ghost. Do you feel sick?”

  
He reached out for Credence’s hand resting on the table, as the latter flinched backward, almost knocking over the plate of apple pie residue during the process. Newt drew back his hand in an awkward manner, trying to look calm, unknowing that his face had already betrayed him by reflecting flashes of sadness and hurt. He cleared his throat.

  
“You can take a rest in the guest room,” standing up, he swept the crumps of apple pie that remained on his clothes onto the ground and removed them with a quick “scourgify”, “I’ll show you the way.”

 


	2. taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning:  
> Non-consensual blow jobs  
> Flashbacks of past child abuse in this chapter

Glancing at his pocket watch, Newt put down the empty bucket that used to be filled with food for mooncalves. He had no idea that it was so late already.

Several days had passed since he took the homeless boy in, and their daily routine consisted of an interesting pattern of dancing around each other, neither of them dared to be too intimate with the other. Newt chose not to be intimate, as he had horrible people skills, and he was walking on eggshells trying not to antagonize Credence when he was unaware of doing so. As for Credence, he chose not to grow attached to the magizoologist, for he had numerous experiences of being rejected and hurt by others had he grown too close to them.

The case was quiet, except for the shuffling the nocturnal creatures made as they moved around, and a casual call or two from one herd of still-awake beasts to another. Newt wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeves, as he walked towards his hut. Putting down the potions for curing his sick occamy, Annie, onto his messy working desk, the magizoologist glared at the niffler, who wanted to follow him out of the case, before climbing up the rope ladder to leave the case.

"No, stay in the case, " pausing as he was half-way towards leaving the case, Newt commanded. His niffler looked at him with such innocence as if he was promising not to be mischievous outside the case.

"I said no. Stay in the case or mummy will not love you anymore," Newt repeated his order. Both of them knew the whole "I will not love you" thing was definitely a lie, Newt could never hate his creatures, however naughty and mischievous they could be, but the niffler decided to stay in the case and not to cause nuisance for once. He could see that his human companion was exhausted from tending the sick occamy.

 

 

Locking the latch of the case, Newt was tempted to throw himself onto the bed and enter a slumber right away when he heard muffled crying from the other room. He sighed, and exited his room as quiet as possible.

"Credence? Can I come in?" knocking the door to the guest room, Newt asked. The sobbing stopped, and there was some sound of shuffling. But there was no response.

"Credence? Are you alright?" he was genuinely worried about the boy. It was clear that he was traumatized and sleeping constantly resulted him with many a nightmare, but for the past several nights, Credence had not been crying in the middle of the night like what he did tonight.

"Y-yes..." Credence's voice was shaking, “Come in, Mr Scamander.”

He entered the room, eyes squirming to adjust to the darkness. Credence was wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and only his messy bed hair could be seen from the mountain of blankets. Gently lifting up some of the blankets to make space, Newt sat on the rim of the bed, caressing Credence’s tear-stained face with his thumb gently. This time, the boy did not flinch from the contact.

“What’s wrong this time?” Newt whispered, his other hand snaking around Credence’s too-thin-to-be-healthy waist, their chests touching each other. Credence could feel Newt’s warm breath tickling his nose, but he did not bother to do anything about it. If it was a dream, he would want to spend his entire life drowning in it. Newt was too kind, almost too kind to be true. Someone like him certainly did not deserve an angel like Newt.

“Ma…Mary Lou, she beat me up with my belt…and even… and even Modesty,” Credence sobbed, causing Newt to hold him tighter, his hand rubbing soothing circles onto Credence’s back, “She called me…called me a ..”

His voice broke off; only loud wailing was heard echoing in the quiet room. Newt pressed a gentle kiss onto the forehead of the poor boy. To be honest, he had no idea how to comfort another human being – his people skills were basically non-existent- so he decided to comfort Credence using the same way he comforted his depressed beasts, by smoothing their furs or feathers and kissing away their sorrows.

Newt’s lips were soft, and his kiss was comforting, like the breeze of spring gently caressing his face, Credence noted. He looked up through his tear-laden lashes. The moonlight reflected nicely onto Newt’s golden-brown hair, like there was a halo on Newt’s head. He looked sacred, almost as if he was an angel.

“Don’t worry, Credence, I am always here for you,” Newt’s comforting words were muffled by Credence’s cocoon of blankets. The magizoologist held the young boy tighter, as Credence wept silently, tears staining the collar of his shirt.

Credence’s breath gradually became steady, and his weeping faded into nothing. Newt could only hear the rhythmical beating of their hearts, occasionally interjected by the sound of inhalation and exhalation. Holding Credence tightly as if he was a prized jewel, or his personal possession, Newt drifted into unconsciousness.

 

The light of day entered the room through the yellow and black curtains – Hufflepuff colours- illuminating the sleeping duo squeezed on a single bed. Credence’s eye lashes fluttered, indicating the owner of those long lashes were about to wake up. He could feel the radiating heat of another body pressing against his. Newt was still soundly asleep, his mouth opened slightly, making a small pink “o” that Credence considered as adorable.

The magizoologist was kind beyond imagination, not just for yesterday. He had been nice and gentle to the traumatized boy since day one – since they met in the City Hall train station, when he coaxed Credence, still in obscurus form, to calm down before being interrupted by the flock of aurors. Credence was starting to doubt, whether his kindness was really faked, faked in order to win his trust so the older man could use him like Mr Graves had done to him.

Credence was aware that the man who hurt him was not the real Percival Graves, but Gellert Grindelwald, the most powerful dark wizard in this world, as Newt has told him several days ago. However, he had a hard time referring the once-kind man as Grindelwald. The name sounded so strange and foreign dancing on the tip of his tongue.

Newt nudged Credence’s neck with his head, his curly hair tickling the younger man’s face. It was until this point when Credence finally realized that their bodies were entangled – interwoven – in a rather suggestive manner, as if they were lovers.

The thought of Newt and him being lovers, spending the latter half of the lives together, was able to bring a smile onto Credence’s face. Almost simultaneously, Newt yawned into Credence’s dark hair, causing the younger man’s face to burn in shame. What was he thinking? Ma..Mary Lou constantly said that homosexuality was a crime – even thinking about it was a sin itself.

But Newt’s lips looked so tempting, especially when it was stretched in his dreams. Credence recalled how soft it used to be the previous night, how soft it felt against his own forehead. It was a forbidden fruit that he was willing to pay the price to taste.

So he pressed his lips onto Newt’s, drinking in the fragrance of the magizoologist’s almost rose petals-like lips, for a brief second, before pulling away, his heart hammering onto his chest loudly, so loud that Credence thought everyone in the New York city must have heard it.

 _“A_ sinner-“ Credence heard Mary Lou’s menacing jeer echoing in his ears. He let out a soft whimper, covering his ears with both of his hands, trying hard to escape from the woman who called herself his “ma”.

He felt Mary Lou whipping him with his belt, his arms burning in pain, as the woman hissed _“Outlaw of the Lord”_ in his ears. Credence choked back a sob, as Mary Lou continued throwing insults at him, _“shame on you”,_ she spitted.

He screamt, jolting Newt awake from his blissful slumber.

“Oh Credence,” he felt warm hands stroking his messy, tangled hair, “Fear not. I am always with you.”

Newt looked into the young man’s eyes with such sympathy. His eyes were red from tears, causing him to look more fragile, to look younger than his real age. Two nightmares in just one night! The magizoologist could only imagine how painful it must have been, living as Credence Barebone with that abusive woman under the same roof for at least the past two decades or so.

“I am sorry, Mr Scamander,” he sobbed, “I didn’t mean to wake you up. Ple-please punish me.”

Mouth hung wide open in aghast, Newt felt a pang of anger building up in his chest. What kind of life did Credence used to live, that he had to ask for punishment himself?

“Shush, I will never hurt you,” wrapping his arms around Credence’s neck, he pulled the sobbing boy closer to his body, cradling his frail body like a cherished jewel. Newt pressed kisses onto Credence’s forehead, showering him with affections and kindness that he deserved so much, but never had the chance of receiving. He felt Credence’s body tensed in his embrace, but it soon relaxed after the magizoologist had rubbed tranquilizing circles onto his scar-covered back. The older man started humming a lullaby, a lullaby that his mother used to sing him to sleep so she could continue her work with hippogriffs after he had fall asleep. Soon, the younger man’s breathing became even. He was still sobbing, yes, but he appeared to be calmer in Newt’s arms.

Looking at the younger man with such love and gentleness, as if he was handling an extremely rare and shy magical creature, Newt stroked Credence’s pale cheeks tenderly, feeling the shape of the younger man’s cheek bones behind his skin. Only up till that point did Newt realize how unnourished the orphaned boy was. Seeing that Credence had appeared to have calmed down, Newt decided to bring him some food.

Leaving the emotionally-disturbed young boy alone in their shared apartment did not appear to be a good idea, but bringing a warranted person out into the urban jungle of New York seemed to be worse than ever. However, there was no food left in his cupboard, not even biscuits – it seemed like the magizoologist was too busy with his beloved creatures to care for his own stomach – Newt had no choice but to leave home for a quick trip for food.

“Don’t worry, I will be back soon,” he told the boy with a soothing smile, as he was closing the door of the apartment. Credence nodded obediently, to make the other man known that he understood his words.

The door was shut with a heavy thump. The magizoologist descended down the stairs of the building, into the coldness of New York in mid-December.

Literally everything was covered in snow – the leafless trees, the rooftops of the skyscrapers, the rubbish bins in the back alleys, where he first met Credence, ever since the incident in the train station. Newt walked towards the back alley, where it was not likely the others would have passed by, and pulled out his wand, ready to apparate.

His intentions to apprate were rather abruptly interrupted by a tall man in a dark coat, when spells went flying from his wand, aiming at Newt. Not given the time to react, Newt was instantly knocked out by a “petrificus totalus”.

All that he could see was darkness.

Pure darkness.

And the smirking face of his attacker, who, Newt recalled to have seen somewhere before.

 

 

Newt woke up with a piercing pain in his skull. He hissed, as the pain became unbearable every time his slightly turned his head. His vision was blurred, for some unknown reasons. The squeaking sound of a door opening can be heard coming from his right, causing him to jolt his head to look towards that particular direction. Another round of pain pierced through his head, and the magizoologist whimpered, earning a cruel chuckle from a silhouette right in front of the currently shut door.

Newt blinked twice, hoping this meaningless action could help his eyes to focus on the person standing in front of him. It did not help. The person walked towards him, the click of his boot echoing on the cold marble floor. Gradually, Newt regained his vision, as the attacker knelt down at a position dangerously close to him.

He remembered where he saw his face. In the train station. His attacker was somewhere in the flock of aurors. Newt recalled Graves – Grindelwald – calling him…

Senior auror Slotwinski, he thought.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing, Newton Scamander,” tilting the magizoologist’s jaw up, Slotwinski whispered. Newt could feel the man’s warm breath on his lips, as he attempted to wiggle away from the tight clench of the attacker, “No wonder the New Salem boy is so enamored by you.”

Newt’s head shot up once he heard Slotwinski mention Credence, his eyes burning in anger. An amused laughter came from the deep region of the man’s throat.

“My, my, you are very protective of him. One would have mistaken you as the obscurial boy’s lover, seeing how angry you can become when you hear another man talking about him,” he continued, “Don’t worry, the obscurus felt the same as you did. He loves you, don’t you see?”

Newt stared at the man, refusing to utter a word in response.

“Your mouth is hard to pry open, I see,” the man smirked, “But I have a way to make your beautiful mouth to be useful.”

He bent down and kissed Newt, resulting in an unsurprising series of struggle from the chained magizoologist. Newt’s protest was muffled as the man pushed his tongue into his mouth. He tasted of gin and tonic - disgusting – Newt noted, when the man’s hand slithered into his trousers. Panicked, Newt attempted to squirm from the touch of the senior auror, but he was pinned down by the man’s strong arms. He could feel the bulge from the man’s trousers, as the man straddled him.

Calloused fingers pried opened the cheeks of his butt, exposing the red tissue of his anus. Newt gasped, as the man pushed in his ice cold fingers, his long nails stroking the sphincter muscle as they made their entrance. It was utterly painful, as there was no proper lubrication before inserting his fingers. The magizoologist choked back a cry of pain, as the man thrust his fingers vigorously into his butt.

With one hand thrusting into Newt’s tight hole, the eager man unclasped his belt in anticipation with the other hand, finally freeing his aching manhood from the constraints of the fabric. Slotwinski forced open Newt’s mouth with his free hand as he pushed in his throbbing length into it, igniting a muffled protest from the chained man. Grasping the man in blue’s curly hair with brutality, the senior auror thrust his length into the beautiful mouth of the magizoologist. Tears began to well up in the sapphire eyes of the latter, causing Slotwinski’s length to be further hardened.

The man of light closed his eyes, as tears streamed down his rosy cheeks. The senior auror had a proud sense of accomplishment upon seeing the broken face of the freckled man. He smiled. He had finally dampened the light, one step closer to gain control over the obscurus. Slotwinski was a legilimen – he could read the obscurial boy’s mind and knew that he feared not for his own safety, and he was somewhat suicidal as well.  Unless Slotwinski could take hostage of the person who he happened to care, or making him cares about his safety, there was absolutely no way for him to gain control over the boy. It occurred to him that, the sole person that the New Salem boy appeared to care about was Newt Scamander. Through taking hostage and diminishing the value of the man, he might be able to control the strongest obscurus ever.  

He came with a cry, white seeds spilling inside the warm mouth of the magizoologist. Pulling out his now softened length, Slotwinski clasped Newt’s mouth shut with his hands, forcing the unwilling magizoologist to swallow all of his seeds. He smiled at the tear-stained face of the beautiful man, before flipping him over, letting Newt lie on his stomach, as he tore off the man’s trousers, his freckled butt exposed to the cold air.

He felt his length hardened with lust upon seeing the man’s creamy butt. Pulling Newt’s butt cheeks apart, he pushed into the sobbing man with a strong thrust.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry Credence I mean I have written two Gramander fics and both of them are funny and cracky but the first time I attempt to write a Crewt fic it is dark and full of angst you deserve better
> 
> I sincerely apologize to whoever is out there with their surname Slotwinski I am sorry to create a character who is an obvious asshole with this surname 
> 
> The name Apophis Slotwinski of my original male character, actually has some meanings. For those who are familiar with Egyptian mythologies, Apophis is the God of chaos, the opponent of light (symbolises Newt in this fic, I have constantly compared Newt to the light). I reckon there is not a more suitable name than Apophis for a villain who is so keen on causing destruction and fighting for power, thus this was why he is named Apophis. 
> 
> Also, I have actually considered using Gellert Grindelwald as the villain, as I would like to stick with the canon characters rather than creating one. But I was planning to have Percival and Credence to kick the ass of the villain, so it would make absolutely no sense if the villain is the most powerful dark wizard in Newt's time. Thus I decided to create my own character. 
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcomed!! Thanks for reading!!


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